The Mad Prince
by ProbableImpossibilities
Summary: In an empire teetering on the brink of civil war, a young prince suddenly takes the throne. Adrift in a sea of political turmoil, ambitions of conquest, and sinister influences, the boy with good intentions must shoulder the weight of a nation... and every step forward is another step towards a dark fate. These are the life and times of Vector, the Mad Prince.
1. Regicide

**Author's Note: Rated T for blood and violence.**

**Cover image by the lovely and talented Juledrops.**

* * *

_"Rei Shingetsu" was nothing more than a pseudonym. His entire personality had been carefully crafted for the sole purpose of betrayal. Even so, he wasn't entirely an act. Vector himself wasn't aware of it at the time, but he'd been like that once. His rebirth into the Barian world had caused him to forget, but the ruins - his ruins - had dragged the memories up from the depths of his subconscious. Everything he'd experienced in his life on Earth came flooding back, pouring over him like a massive wave and crashing down on his shoulders. And the force of the impact nearly brought him to his knees. _

_Amidst the violent swirl of past passions, ambitions, and fears, a single memory gradually took shape before his eyes. It wasn't his first in a linear sense, but it was a turning point. It was his true beginning._

* * *

The stone walls of the palace echoed harshly with the sound of footsteps and hushed voices. Two serving girls hurried down the long, empty corridor, carrying bundles of clean white cloth and a bowl of water. They whispered furtively to each other as they went, glancing around every once in a while to make sure no one would overhear.

"Is His Majesty hurt?"

"No, I heard that the young prince took a nasty fall from his horse."

"Again?"

"Aye." The older of the two sighed softly, shaking her head. "The poor child just can't seem to keep his balance."

The younger girl suppressed a giggle. "My sister can ride a donkey all day, and she's three years his junior."

The other girl silenced her with a glare. "You mustn't ever speak ill of the royal family," she whispered gravely.

The younger girl raised an eyebrow. "But I'm sure we're alone."

The older girl's eyes traveled upwards and focused on the rafters. "The walls here have ears..." she murmured. "Especially now."

The younger girl didn't ask what she'd meant by that; she simply hurried through the halls in silence, eyes downcast, until the two of them reached the courtyard near the stables.

The scene that greeted them there was, sadly, not an uncommon one. The prince's horse, a sleek black stallion, snorted quietly and pawed at the ground as one of the grooms held him by the reins. A couple of yards to the left, a manservant knelt on the ground, about to tear a strip of cloth from the end of his tunic. Next to him lay a young boy, arms and legs splayed. He had a shock of bright orange hair and fair skin, and he seemed strangely relaxed despite the large, red gash on his left arm.

"Stop fussing, Hamza," the boy complained, turning his head to inspect the wound. "This is nothing."

The manservant sighed. "Bleeding out after falling from a horse would not be a particularly honorable death, my prince."

The prince groaned in frustration, then sat up when he noticed the two serving girls. "Look, you don't have to rip your tunic; the bandages are here."

The two girls bowed respectfully, then knelt down and placed the bowl of water on the ground, starting to unwind the bandages. Hamza suddenly shooed them away, grinning. "I'll take care of it. Go do whatever you were doing."

As the girls scurried away, Hamza dipped one end of the cloth in the water and started to wash the prince's wound. "You were doing quite well today..."

The boy pouted. "I thought I said you could be honest with me."

Hamza chuckled. "Forgive me. You shouldn't have tried to take Sassan over those rocks, Vector." He started to wrap the cloth around the prince's arm. "He may be bred for war, but he's younger than you are, and just as liable to buck."

Vector grinned. "Sassan didn't buck. I jumped off on purpose." He winked impishly. "I was practicing a new fighting move."

Hamza smiled knowingly. "So that's the official story, then." He continued to wrap the cloth around the boy's arm, working carefully and silently.

After a moment or two, Vector suddenly spoke up. "Hamza, you're my friend, but you're also honest, so I can ask you this. Do you think I'll be a good king?"

The man mulled over the question for a moment or two before responding. "Well, you're quite clever and you mean well..."

Vector sighed. "But meaning well's not enough, right?" He hung his head. "Father's always saying that. I can't lead our empire into battle if I mess up everything I touch."

A flash of pity crossed Hamza's face, but after only a moment, it was wiped away by a warm smile. "But you also work very hard, and practice can make even the most lily-livered pansy into a seasoned warrior." He finished wrapping the bandages and tied the cloth tight with a firm knot. "And Prince Vector is no pansy."

Vector grinned and jumped to his feet. "I'll just be the only warrior that can't ride."

Hamza stood up and followed the prince towards the castle. "That's what chariots are for. Besides, you're already much better than many soldiers in one respect, at least."

Vector raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

Hamza grinned and gently patted the boy's freshly-bandaged arm. "You don't cry when you get hurt."

* * *

The king sat on his throne, drummed his fingers on the armrest thereof and sighed. "Bring my son to me," he commanded one of his attendants, the hint of annoyance in his tone ringing harshly through the great hall. The attendant bowed and hurried away through one of the doors, leaving the king alone in the long, high-ceilinged room. He sighed again, gazing absentmindedly at the tapestry of Avesta the Great at the Battle of Sistan. The tapestry depicted the ancient ruler as larger-than-life, with a scimitar in his hand and piles of slain enemies at his feet. The king stared at the tapestry wistfully, shaking his head. "Sometimes I wish Vector could be a little bit more like you..." He scowled. "Look at me, talking to the tapestries again." He stroked his short chestnut beard absentmindedly. "Perhaps I should spend some time at the palace down in Mazdai; I could use a little relaxation."

Suddenly, one of the double doors at the other end of the great hall swung open, and a page darted inside. "Announcing His Royal Highness Prince Cambyses of Gaumata, lord of the Mediyan Islands, slayer of one hundred men." Immediately following this, a tall man clothed in scarlet robes swept into the hall and approached the throne, stopping for a moment to dip his head as he did so. "Your Majesty..."

The king huffed. "Please dispense with the formalities, brother. I trust something of great import must have occurred to bring you bursting into my court uninvited."

Cambyses nodded. "The lords talk of rebellion, Cyrus. They fear that your recent passivity will endanger the empire."

The king scowled. "They are nothing more than a collection of squabbling fools. Ahrima has stood for a thousand years, and she will stand for a thousand more, regardless of how I deal with the Parthians."

Cambyses narrowed his eyes slightly, deepening the thin wrinkles on his forehead. "The lords aren't interested in logic; they want a war, and they'll only fight for a king who will give it to them."

The king sighed. "A war? We just had a war; a long and terrible war." He looked his brother in the eye. "The people are enjoying their peace. Who are we to take it from them so swiftly? Cambyses, Ahrima and I are exhausted. Parthian will still be there for the empire to conquer when Vector takes the throne."

Cambyses avoided the king's gaze. "That's what I was afraid you'd say..."

* * *

Hamza had just closed the castle door behind the young prince when one of the king's attendants appeared from down the hall. "My prince, your presence is requested in the great hall," he announced, bowing. "His Majesty your father will speak with you."

Vector nodded curtly. "Thank you."

The attendant bowed once more before hurrying off. Vector glanced up at Hamza. "How long do you think the lecture will last today?"

Hamza smirked. "One siglos says it'll be thirty minutes."

Vector laughed. "Only one siglos? You're being awfully cautious." He folded his arms as he walked and turned up his nose. "That bet's not worth taking."

Hamza smiled softly. "Forgive me." He suddenly lapsed into an uneasy silence, gazing intently at the stone floor beneath his feet as he walked.

After a moment or two, Vector noticed his reticence and tilted his head slightly. "Is something the matter?"

Hamza appeared startled at first, but he quickly recovered and smiled warmly. "No, I was simply thinking about something. But I am honored by your concern."

Vector grinned cheekily, wagging his finger. "Shame on you; servants are not supposed to think."

Hamza rolled his eyes, smiling. "Forgive me, your highness, I shan't do it again."

Within a few minutes, the two of them stood before the double doors that led to the great hall. There was no one else in sight, and Vector paused. "Where's the page?"

Hamza glanced around and shrugged. "I'm afraid I cannot say. But he will be sorely punished for leaving his post."

Vector smirked. "Well then, I suppose I'll just have to announce myself." With some effort, he pushed open the double doors and strode into the hall, eyes closed and head high. "Announcing His Royal Highness Prince Vector of Parsis, lord of the province of Acina, slayer of one hundred insects, and crown prince of the illustrious Ahriman Empire…" He trailed off and stopped in his tracks, eyes wide.

At the other end of the great hall, the throne sat empty. The king who should have been sitting on it lay instead at its base, face-down with his arms and legs splayed. A small patch of red had seeped out over the stone from underneath his torso. The page stood over the king's unmoving body, a bloody shiv in his hand. And to the left, beside the throne, stood…

Vector gasped and took a tiny step backwards. "Uncle Cambyses?" The boy's eyes widened and his face paled as he realized what had happened. "You…no..."

Cambyses let out a heavy sigh, leaning casually against the back of the throne. "I'm sorry, Vector, but…" He shook his head, an expression of deep remorse upon his face. "Sometimes we have to sacrifice even the ones we love for the good of the empire. You understand, don't you?"

The page climbed over the king's body and began making his way towards the front of the great hall, shiv raised. Vector took another step back, trembling. As the page drew closer, his breath caught in his throat. Desperate, he fought through the panic that had taken hold of him and screamed, "I'll abdicate!" His lower lip trembled. "Please… please don't…"

Cambyses sighed again, this time looking mildly annoyed. "I'm sorry, but I really can't keep you alive. See, the thing about little boys like you is that one day, you'll grow up." He smirked. "And as you can see, grown up princes can be dangerous."

Vector stood completely still for a moment, frozen in fear. But as the page continued to walk towards him, shiv raised to kill, the boy broke free from his daze and bolted towards the double doors, heart pounding in his chest. But the sudden sight of the man standing before them, barring his escape with a raised scimitar, stopped it cold.

Vector skidded to a halt, eyes wide in disbelief. "...Hamza?"

The man held the boy's gaze, but said nothing.

Vector's bottom lip trembled, eyes pleading desperately. "Please let me out… please…" He could hear the page's footsteps behind him. "Hamza… Hamza!"

The man turned his face away. "Forgive me, my prince."

Vector heard the footsteps behind him stop. "No…" he murmured, turning around slowly. He saw the page's shiv hang in the air for a moment, heard the soft swish as it swung down…

Suddenly, the great hall was filled with a burst of red light. Vector squinted, unable to see anything. He heard a blood-curdling scream, but it sounded warped, as though he was hearing it through water. Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the light vanished, and Vector was left staring down the great hall, blinking furiously to refocus his vision.

Once he was able to see properly again, he immediately noticed two things. One was the body of the page, lying on the stone floor with no visible wounds except a look of sheer terror on his face. The other was a strange man, standing not two feet away from him. He was tall and thin, draped in a dark hooded cloak that obscured most of his face in shadow. The man smirked, and his eyes began to glow red. "Are you unhurt, my prince?"

Vector blinked, and took a step back. "Who are you? What did you do?"

The strange man bowed. "My name is Don Thousand, and I am here to help you." He raised his head, smirking wickedly. "That is, if you'll promise me one thing in return."

Cambyses drew a dagger from within his robes and descended the steps from the throne, looking rattled but undeterred. "Stand down, whoever you are." He frowned. "This is family business."

Don Thousand held out a skeletal hand towards Vector. "Your death rapidly approaches; will you hear my offer?"

Vector nodded vehemently. "Tell me what you want me to do!"

The strange man smirked. "This is my proposition: I will serve and protect you and your empire for the rest of your days. Ask anything of me, anything at all, and you shall receive. All I require in exchange is that when your time does come…" His red eyes flashed. "...your soul will serve me."

Vector's heart skipped a beat. "My soul?"

Don Thousand grinned. "Aye."

Vector fell silent, hesitant. His eyes flitted back and forth, unsure.

"Are you finished chatting?" Cambyses raised the dagger in his hand and lunged towards Vector.

The boy clenched his fists and stared straight into the strange man's red eyes. "I accept!"

Don Thousand calmly reached into his cloak and withdrew an impossibly large scythe, blade glistening red. With one fluid motion, he swung the weapon in a wide arc and brought it back to his side.

A moment later, Cambyses' head slid gracefully off the base of his neck and fell to the ground.

The rest of his body crumpled to the floor within seconds amid a shower of red. Vector watched it blankly, eyes still wide, not noticing the warm blood that splashed onto his face and chest.

Don Thousand turned towards the double doors, scythe raised. Vector suddenly thrust out an arm. "Stop!" He turned towards the doors. "Don't kill him."

Hamza faced the boy, scimitar hanging loosely by his side. The two watched each other, unmoving, for what seemed like ages. Finally, a sad, subdued smile began to tug at the corners of Hamza's mouth. "You're quite composed."

Vector's expression didn't change. "You said it yourself; I don't cry when I'm hurt."

Hamza slowly raised the scimitar and held it out towards the boy, hilt first. "You know the penalty for treason."

Vector's face softened as he grasped the sword. "Hamza... you don't have to..."

Hamza sank to his knees and linked his hands behind his back. He smiled once before hanging his head. "Make it quick."

"No!" The scimitar in Vector's hand shook violently. "I won't do it!"

"You must!" Hamza's voice wavered, and his shoulders trembled. "Please... my prince..."

Vector stood silently with the sword in his hand; as the seconds passed, tears gradually started to form in the corners of his eyes.

He held the scimitar in both hands, clenching it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He then slowly raised the sword, and held the blade over the exposed back of Hamza's neck.

The last thing Hamza felt before the brief sting of the blade was a light drop of wetness on the top of his shoulder.

It was the last tear Prince Vector of Parsis would shed for a very long time.

* * *

**Author's Note: Merry Christmas! Here, have something depressing! :D**

**I've actually been wanting to write this fic since I first found out about Vector's past life. I want to show how good old Vec became so gloriously insane (it's going to be a gradual process; this one chapter just gets the ball rolling). Since he's still only a teen during the battle with Nasch, I tried to make him a slightly precocious 7-10 here.**

**I looked at the Legendary Numbers map to try and find out where our mad prince lived, but it looks like Vector's castle is in the middle of the ocean. Also, the architecture of that place is so messed up that I couldn't really get any clues from that, either, so I ultimately went with the vibes I was getting from his outfit. No shirt, poofy pants, and a sophisticated navy signaled 'Persia' to me, so all names of people and places were pulled from various Wikipedia articles on the first empire thereof. It's still a made-up country, though, so please don't get upset when there are inconsistencies.**


	2. Absolutum Dominium

_- -__Absolutum Dominium - -_

_Absolute Dominion_

* * *

Vector fidgeted restlessly. "This turban is restricting my hair... and it's itchy..."

Darius, the new manservant, was completely unfazed by the prince's whining. "I am sorry if your Highness feels inconvenienced, but you did express a desire to impress the lords." He watched from a corner of the room as the royal tailor tried to help the squirming boy into scarlet robes that looked like they were stiff enough to be made of wood. "While I understand that they are uncomfortable, those clothes are in the traditional style, and are therefore appropriate for today's gathering." Darius was a tall, thin man with a sinewy build and dull blond hair that hung down to his shoulders. His grey eyes were somber and morose, making him look like he was eternally either very sad or very tired... or, as was the current case, very unimpressed.

Vector sighed. "You're right..." He pouted. "Why do you have to be so perfect?!"

The manservant didn't bat an eye. "Thank you for your praise, Sire. I will adjust my performance accordingly so that I will never earn it again if that is your wish."

Vector raised an eyebrow. "You're serious, aren't you?" He squealed as the tailor pulled on the sash around his abdomen. "Not so tight!"

It had been six months since the day Cambyses attempted to take the throne. Miraculously, the king had survived the attack; however, his wounds had left him in what the court physicians had told Vector was a perpetual sleep, from which he would most likely never recover. He was unable to rule; therefore, the lords of the thirteen Ahriman provinces would have to gather to choose someone to run the empire in his stead. Knowing this, Vector had taken the initiative and invited them to the court in Parsis. He intended to win his birthright, the throne, from them. But the lords were notorious for their fickle natures, insatiable ambitions, and extreme sensitivity to tradition. Vector knew that it would take a heavy hand to corral them, and that he would have to do it in exactly the right way. Thankfully, Darius had experience with the court, and was able to advise the young prince on how to carry himself before the nobles. Still, there was no telling how the meeting would go. Darius had informed Vector that many of the lords had been dissatisfied with Cyrus' rule, and some had even pledged Cambyses their support; it would take some major convincing to get them to back the king's young son.

Vector's brow furrowed. He was considering asking his strange new vassal, Don Thousand, for help during court. The red-eyed man had disappeared into thin air after killing Cambyses, but he had promised unlimited assistance should Vector ask him, and this situation certainly seemed to warrant assistance. However, the young prince's personal pride made him loathe to ask the skeletal man for help. True, he'd never even been to court before, but he felt compelled to handle the situation on his own. On the other hand, he knew that this was an extremely important meeting that would literally make or break him, and he was completely inexperienced...

Vector was jolted from his thoughts by a sharp pain in his lower back as the tailor accidentally pricked him with a pin. "Agh! God's blood, man!"

The tailor blanched and bowed furiously. "Forgive me, your Highness!"

Vector gritted his teeth. "Just get this over with..." He was starting to get restless. The boy turned to Darius. "Do you know any jokes?"

The manservant frowned. "Respectfully, I am not a jester, Sire."

Vector grimaced. "Right. You are absolutely no fun."

Darius was silent for a while before clearing his throat. "Does your Highness know why the camel crossed the plaza?"

Vector blinked. "Um, no..."

"It was in order to reach the other side," the man deadpanned, looking slightly uncomfortable.

Vector almost giggled. Almost. "Your delivery's terrible."

Darius frowned slightly. "I am truly sorry, Sire."

It was at that point that a serving girl opened the door and cleared her throat nervously. "Your Highness, Lord Gathas of Mainyu has arrived." Ordinarily, she would never have been doing this sort of thing, but Prince Vector had recently developed a distrust towards pages.

Vector turned his head to look at the tailor. "Are you almost done?"

The man nodded vehemently; he seemed to still be a bit shaken up over his mistake with the pin. "Only a few minutes more, your Highness."

Vector grinned. "Good." He turned to the serving girl. "Take Gathas and his people to the banquet hall."

The girl bowed and ducked out of the room. Darius raised an eyebrow. "I would advise against joining the lords right away, Sire. You will make a greater impression if you wait to enter the hall until they have all arrived."

Vector nodded. "That makes sense." He frowned. "But I don't want to leave them alone with the food..."

Darius dipped his head. He understood the young prince's unease. "There will be servants present, of course, but I can bring in some guards if you wish." When Vector's expression didn't change, Darius decided that more security was necessary. "I will even look after the lords myself, with your permission."

Vector looked a little reassured. "Thank you, Darius."

The manservant bowed. "I will send a servant to inform your Highness when all of the lords are present." He then exited the room, leaving Vector alone with the tailor, who seemed just as eager to escape as the prince was to be rid of him. Thankfully, all that remained to complete the outfit was the tying of a second silken sash around his waist, into which an ornate dagger would be placed. The sheathed weapon was more for decoration than anything else; Ahrima was an empire that enjoyed war, and her rulers were expected to look prepared for one at all times. Despite its nature as a fashion accessory, the dagger did have a very sharp, functional blade, which made Vector feel a bit more secure in the likelier-than-it-should-be event that something were to go horribly awry that evening.

The tailor finally finished his work and scurried out of the room with a bow. Vector sighed in relief and flopped down into a large chair, hastily readjusting his turban as it slipped forward over his forehead. He pulled the dagger out of his sash and casually inspected the rubies inlaid in its golden hilt. "I don't think I can do this..." he muttered to himself, turning the dagger in his hands. "What if I mess up? Even Father didn't think I could be a strong king... and if the lords aren't impressed..."

"They might try to kill you."

Vector gasped, jumped up from his seat and whirled around, drawing the dagger from its sheath with a shaky hand. He froze as he found himself face to face with a pair of glowing red eyes.

Don Thousand chuckled darkly. "Humans are so easily startled."

Vector took a deep breath to calm himself, but did not sheath the dagger. "Let me guess. You're here about the meeting with the lords."

The hooded man shrugged. "Well, yes, but that's a rather trifling matter." He smirked. "More importantly, I've come to discuss with you the exact terms of our arrangement."

Vector raised an eyebrow. "The exact terms?"

Don Thousand nodded. "Unfortunately, the urgency of the situation six months ago didn't leave me enough time to properly explain all the details." He pulled up a chair across from the one Vector had been sitting in and sat himself down with a wraith-like grace. "You may want to take a seat; we have much to discuss."

Vector sat down carefully, watching the hooded man like a hawk. He wasn't sure why, but something about Don Thousand made him feel uneasy. "I know you're not human... are you a sorcerer? Or are you a god, or a demon?"

Don Thousand chuckled. "What I am is not really important. But you could call me a god." He leaned forward, smirking. "What is important is that you've secured my services. And I can do almost anything for you."

Vector raised an eyebrow. "_Almost_ anything?"

"Well, the universe does have rules," Don Thousand replied. "I can't bring anyone back from the dead, and I try not to move mountains unless absolutely necessary. You see, this form is only a reflection of my true self." He looked Vector in the eye. "But there is nothing in this world more powerful than I."

Vector felt a chill run down his spine. He somehow knew that what the hooded man had just said was not an exaggeration. There was a strange... aura about him, a subtle electricity that permeated the air, made the prince's fingertips tingle and raised goosebumps on his skin. It was strangely exhilarating. "I see," Vector murmured, trying to hide his awe. "So why did you decide to help me?"

Don Thousand leaned back in his chair, looking amused. "You are an exceptional boy, with vast potential. I believe that you are the one to free me, my true self, from where I lie bound beneath the sea." He smirked. "That will be your end of the bargain. But rest assured, that day is still a long way off."

Vector felt another chill run down his spine. He felt a twinge of fear, but he'd realized something. "So that's why you made me promise you my soul? You only want me to free you?"

Don Thousand held up a hand. "Don't worry about it now; you will only be able to do so once you've died." He smiled in amusement. "Did you think you could get out of your payment by setting me free while you were still alive? I admire your ingenuity, but it's impossible."

Vector grimaced. "Curse you."

Don Thousand laughed; the sound was deep and firm, like the rumbling of thunder. "As I said, do not worry about it. What happens after you are dead has no bearing on what happens while you are alive." He folded his bony hands. "Neither of us can ever rescind our contract, in any case; but I assume you knew that."

Vector smiled wryly. "Well, even if I didn't, it wouldn't change my decision." He folded his arms. "Honestly, I don't care what you do with my soul, and I don't care much about this contract business, either." He held his head high and pointed the dagger at Don Thousand. "Just give me the throne of Ahrima."

The hooded man grinned, stood up from his chair, and bowed. "It shall be done, my prince."

* * *

The banquet hall was crowded, and the high stone walls echoed harshly with a raucous clamor of voices. While there were only thirteen Ahriman lords, they had each brought along their own entourage of servants, bodyguards, and advisors, and so the long, thin room was nearly full to bursting. The lords sat around a low rectangular table, dressed to the nines in traditional robes and turbans. Under the watchful eyes of Darius and the prince's guards, they nibbled on decadent appetizers and made small talk amongst themselves; popular topics included anything from the weather to gossip about Lady Ahura's missing husband. The prince had spared no expense in providing for his guests, and the atmosphere was cheerful and lighthearted, as though they were gathered for a grand gala instead of a serious meeting.

The thirteenth lord to arrive, a young noble from an outlying province, had just sat down and grabbed a pear when Lord Xerxes of Arda Viraf tapped the edge of his goblet loudly with a spoon. The room quieted instantly, and everyone turned their attentions to the lord; everyone except Darius, who motioned over a servant, whispered in his ear, and sent him out of one of the side doors to the hall.

Xerxes, a tall, well-built man with a wiry silver beard, cleared his throat gruffly. "Distinguished gentlemen… and lady," he added, winking at Lady Ahura across the table.

The woman merely huffed and turned up her nose, glaring at Xerxes with charcoal eyes as sharp as flint. "No one is in the mood for your ridiculous machinations today, Arda Viraf." This comment elicited a few snickers from the lords; Ahura had a reputation for being cynical and blunt, but she always spoke the truth. She also had a strange habit of referring to the other nobles by the names of their provinces.

Xerxes ignored her and continued to address the lords. "You all know why we've been gathered here today, I'm sure." He smirked. "We are to choose one from among us to rule the Ahriman Empire."

The lords whispered amongst themselves, still keeping their eyes firmly locked on Xerxes. Ahura scowled. "Get to the point."

Xerxes narrowed his eyes slightly. "Alright. My point is that if there is one person who cannot be allowed to rule…" He folded his arms. "...it is the young Prince Vector."

The hall echoed with surprised whispers and a few gasps. Ahura rolled her eyes but said nothing. Suddenly, a hand shot into the air and waved back and forth animatedly.

Xerxes blinked. "Ah, yes? Do you have a question, Lord…?"

The young noble, the one who'd entered last, bit off an enormous chunk of pear and wiped the juice from his mouth with his sleeve, grinning widely. He had nut-brown skin, a mop of black hair that stuck out in strange spikes from the back of his neck, and bright, reddish-brown eyes that shone with enthusiasm. "Oh, it's Arjuna. Arjuna of Palayur."

Ahura raised a thin eyebrow. "What is it that you wish to say, Palayur?"

Arjuna took another bite of pear and began to talk with his mouth full. "Ahm, y'see…" He swallowed loudly and smacked his lips before continuing. "Why exactly should the prince not rule? He's prob'ly got more right to it than any of us."

Xerxes' nose crinkled in disgust at the young lord's breach of table manners. "Vector is the son of Cyrus, the weakest king to ever rule our empire. We are on the brink of war with Parthia; we cannot rely on the scion of a thin bloodline to guide us through these troubled waters." He smirked. "Ahrima requires a strong leader, one who will win her glory by the sword." The manner in which he spoke made it obvious that he was referring to himself.

Arjuna tilted his head. "Okay, I get that. But we will not be at war forever, _janaté?_"

One of the lords seated next to Xerxes, Teispes of Elam, snorted derisively. "This is a formal court session, boy. Do not speak your hick language here."

Arjuna slammed both palms on the table angrily. "Who are you calling a hick, you slimy weasel?!"

Darius cleared his throat loudly from the head of the table. "Your Lordships!" As the room quieted and the lords focused their attention on the manservant, he bowed and motioned towards the double doors behind him. "Announcing His Royal Highness Prince Vector of Parsis, lord of the province of Acina, crown prince of the Ahriman Empire."

There was a loud shuffle as everyone present stood to their feet. Two servants pulled open the double doors, and out stepped the young prince, clad in scarlet. He carried himself with confidence and regality, features set in firm determination. Many of the lords present had never seen him in person, and some, who ruled over outlying provinces, had never even been to the capital city of Parsis. It was important that he make a good first impression.

Vector sat down at the head of the table and surveyed the lords, trying to pick out the ones that looked unfriendly. "You may be seated," he commanded, and watched the lords as they took their seats. Darius had informed him that Xerxes, Teispes, and Ahura were the major power players, and of the three, only Ahura was likely to consider supporting him. He soon spotted Xerxes and Teispes on his right; the two were smirking like hyenas about to tear into a juicy carcass. Ahura sat across from them, on his left; she looked more like she was sucking on a sour lemon. As he inspected the faces of the various lords, he noticed one who looked only a little older than himself. Vector faintly recalled Darius telling him the name of that particular lord… was it Yuna? No, Arjuna.

Arjuna seemed to notice the prince staring at him, and he waved excitedly, a broad grin plastered on his face. Vector was slightly taken aback; he hadn't been expecting any of the lords to act so brashly. He quickly shook it off, though, and turned his gaze towards the rest of the lords as a whole. "I would like to officially welcome you all to Parsis," he said, arms outstretched. "I apologize if the trip was a bit far for some of you."

"No problem!" Arjuna practically shouted, grinning. "Best three weeks of my life!"

Everyone in the room turned and stared at him, Vector included. Ahura's eyebrows looked like they were about to shoot off her face. "I would advise you to calm down, Palayur," she grumbled. "If you cannot control yourself, you may leave here bound and gagged."

Arjuna's smile dimmed a shade. "Ahm, sorry..."

Ahura shook her head and turned to face Vector. "Well, your attempt to start with formalities appears to have been ruined, Prince, so why don't we cut to the chase?"

Vector quickly got over his shock at the informality of the situation and nodded. "I agree." He smirked. "I assume you've already been discussing this amongst yourselves, so I'll just go ahead and nominate myself for Emperor of Ahrima." He leaned back in his chair, glancing back and forth at the stunned faces of the lords around him, and his smirk grew into a grin. "Any objections?"

Xerxes hastily stood up from the table and slammed its surface with a fist. "I object!" he roared, turning to address the lords. "Gentlemen, look at how this boy comes before you: with impudence and flagrant disrespect!" He scowled. "It should be obvious that he is unfit to rule!"

A cacophony of voices filled the hall as the lords all spoke up at once. Teispes cleared his throat loudly and stood from his seat. "I nominate Lord Xerxes of Arda Viraf!" he shouted over the din.

A couple of shouts of affirmation could be heard amidst the noise, which had grown into an out-of-control verbal mayhem. Ahura stood up and folded her arms. "Quiet down!" she commanded sternly. "Such a ruckus is only becoming of a group of rabid monkeys."

After a minute or two, the lords gradually settled into a rather sheepish silence. Ahura nodded approvingly and turned to face Xerxes. "Congratulations, you've been nominated, and you've stated your position very clearly. But before we cast our votes, I would think it proper to allow our other candidate to defend himself before your _scathing_ insults." The sarcasm she'd layered on the word 'scathing' was almost palpable.

Xerxes scowled. "And what exactly gives you the right to order us around, _woman?" _He smirked. "Do not make the mistake of thinking that you are our equal simply because your husband has conveniently disappeared."

Ahura looked ready to murder him with her gaze, but she took the jab without saying anything.

Arjuna slammed his palms on the surface of the table and stood up, looking livid. "Ay! Show her some respect!" He narrowed his eyes. "Lady Ahura is just trying to be fair! Everybody deserves a chance to have their say!"

Xerxes huffed. "I truly hope you did not come to this gathering planning on being listened to, young man. Ever since you first arrived, you have only acted like an uncivilized brute."

Arjuna practically growled, raising his fists. "Yes, well, at least I'm not an arrogant, pig-headed politician like you!"

Vector, who'd been watching the lords duke it out with detached amusement, decided it was time for him to step in. "Your lordships, please." He held up his hands. "While I'm enjoying watching you make fools of yourselves, we do have business to discuss." He felt the lords' eyes on him, and he smirked. "As for me, I promise that I will be a strong ruler; but, to be frank, I will be taking the throne with or without dear old Xerxes' approval. You see..." He held a hand over his chest. "...I command the power of a god."

Xerxes bristled. "Do you think this is some sort of joke?!"

Vector grinned. "What, you don't believe me?" He snapped his fingers, and Don Thousand appeared at his side in a burst of red light, scythe in hand.

The lords cried out in shock, many of them stumbling away from the head of the table. Xerxes froze, staring at the hooded man with wide eyes. Arjuna's eyes were also wide and his mouth hung open, but he looked more awed than afraid. Ahura was the only one who kept her cool; she didn't look impressed. Vector smirked. All the more reason to give her a show, then.

Xerxes gradually got over his shock and scowled at Vector. "Are you trying to intimidate me?! This is outrageous!"

Don Thousand smirked. "Tell me, Xerxes, do you still oppose your prince?"

Xerxes growled. "Of course I do, and I will oppose him to the end of my days!" He turned to Vector. "Did you expect me to be frightened by this cheap parlor trick?! Ridiculous! I would not bow to a brat like you if all the armies of the world were gathered at my doorstep!"

Don Thousand shook his head, and his red eyes flashed. "That is unfortunate."

Vector raised an eyebrow. "What are you-"

Almost before the words were out of the prince's mouth, Don Thousand swung his scythe. The tip of the razor-sharp blade pierced Xerxes in the chest and stuck there, as though wedged between his ribs. The lord's face was frozen in an expression of horror, and he gurgled, blood spraying out of his mouth, before crumpling forward, torso slumped over the table.

The room was deathly still; Vector was too shocked to even move. He simply watched, eyes wide, as Don Thousand pulled his scythe out of Xerxes' chest and began to stroll about the room. Red sparks of light spread outwards from the tips of his fingers, concealing the eyes and foreheads of everyone else present, from the lords to the servants. "How terribly tragic," the hooded man intoned, voice low and smooth. "No one could have imagined that Lord Xerxes would so suddenly attack His Highness the prince with this man's sword." He deftly pulled a scimitar out of the sash of a guard and pressed it into Xerxes' hand. "If this brave man had not been here to save him..." He pulled a dagger from Darius' sash, dipped it in Xerxes' blood, and wrapped the spellbound manservant's hands around its hilt. "...Prince Vector would have certainly lost his life." Don Thousand held up his hands, palms outstretched towards the lords. "Xerxes and his supporters are traitors to the crown, and cannot be allowed to gain power. We must give Prince Vector the authority to rule."

Vector broke free from the shock that had taken hold of him and stood from his seat. "W- What are you doing?!"

Don Thousand turned to face him, scythe in hand. "I am giving you the throne of Ahrima, just as you asked."

Vector's eyes widened. "I... I never wanted you to kill anyone!" he cried, voice tinged with horror.

Don Thousand shrugged, grinning darkly. "You should have specified."

Vector's lower lip trembled. "Get out!" he screamed, drawing the dagger from his sash. "GET OUT!"

Don Thousand grinned, bowing. "If you insist..." Moments later, he disappeared in a flash of red light.

Vector stared at the spot where the hooded man had been, holding the dagger by his side in a shaking hand. Around him, he heard shouts and gasps as the room's occupants broke out of their daze. As the banquet hall dissolved into chaos, Vector stood still, staring blankly without moving an inch.

Some time later, he became aware of a pair of hands on his shoulders, and he whirled around, dagger raised.

Arjuna took a small step back, hands in the air. "Aya, sorry! I just wanted to let you know the lords are ready to vote."

Vector took a deep breath and sheathed the dagger. "Lord Arjuna... what just happened?"

Arjuna blinked. "Oh... it must have been pretty shocking for you, huh?" He shook his head. "Xerxes stole a guard's sword and tried to attack you. Luckily, your manservant was able to stop it in time. He's resting in the room next door." He sighed. "That Xerxes really did deserve it, but a death's a death. It's so terribly tragic..."

Vector nodded dully and slowly lowered himself into his seat. Arjuna scurried back to his seat near the other end of the table, and the rest of the lords gradually took their seats.

When everyone had settled, Lady Ahura cleared her throat. "In light of the shocking events that have just transpired here, it should be obvious to you all what we are to do." She faced the lords with a calm certainty, glancing at each of them in turn until her gaze rested on Teispes. "Xerxes and his supporters are traitors to the crown, and cannot be allowed to gain power."

There were a couple of shouts of affirmation, and Vector felt a strange tightening in his chest.

Ahura stood up, gave Vector a brief thin smile, and turned back to the lords. "We must give Prince Vector the authority to rule." She raised her right hand. "I hereby move to appoint Prince Vector of Parsis ruler and lord over the empire of Ahrima. Will anyone second my motion?"

Arjuna jumped to his feet and raised his hand. "Seconded!" he shouted, grinning.

Ahura nodded. "Then we shall commence the vote. All opposed, say 'nay'."

The hall was silent. Teispes looked like he wanted to speak up, but was far too frightened to do so. Ahura smiled wryly and turned to face Vector. "Congratulations, it seems that no one is opposed. You are now officially the emperor of Ahrima." She sat down and folded her hands in her lap. "Custom dictates that you may take any title you wish, and hold some sort of ceremony at your leisure."

Vector was about to thank her when Arjuna let out a deafening whoop. "Now we can really party!" he shouted excitedly, then paused and glanced up at Vector. "...With your permission, Highness."

Vector sighed, allowing a small, relieved smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. "As my first act as Emperor of Ahrima, I hereby officially give you permission to party."

* * *

**Author's Note: Hmm, Arjuna remind anybody of anyone? A certain spiky-haired goof, perhaps? There is a reason for this... I'm just not going to tell you what it is. (That's P.I. speak for 'I'm really not sure, myself.') But I do have a reason!**

**And now the chapters are getting longer... and a tiny bit less depressing. Don't worry, there will be happiness in this fic. And also other familiar faces. Just throwin' that out there.**

**I know "God's blood" is Elizabethan, but I wanted Vector to swear pretentiously.**


	3. Ad Meliora

_- - Ad Meliora - -_

_Towards Better Things_

* * *

Vector raised an eyebrow. "Arjuna, do you ever stop eating?"

The young lord in question ripped a huge chunk of flesh out of an apple and licked the juice off his chin. "Hey, I'm a warrior! I can't fight without fuel!"

Vector rolled his eyes. "So I guess you consider a leisurely walk through the palace grounds a fight, then?"

"Absolutely." Arjuna pouted and massaged his cheek, which sported a bright-red scrape. "I think your definition of 'leisurely' is a little suspect; so far, we've tripped over sharp stones, gotten chased by the falconer's birds, nearly fallen off a small cliff, and gotten locked out of the main courtyard." He held his free hand to his chest. "I _deserve_ this apple."

Vector stared at the ground. "I never intended for this to be so straining…" He sighed. "Things just seem to spiral out of control despite my best intentions."

Arjuna chuckled nervously, deliberately avoiding eye-contact. "Maybe you need a good-luck charm or something?" He took another bite of the apple and tossed the core to the side.

Vector shrugged, absent-mindedly kicking a pebble out of his path. After the incident with Xerxes, he'd been considerably shaken, and he'd had a hard time recovering from his shock during the banquet. Arjuna, who apparently had no inhibitions, had approached him and started talking. Obviously, this sort of behavior was not proper at all and the other lords were quite shocked, so Vector had shooed him away. However, after spending the whole dinner oppressed by a heavy gloom, he'd realized that he needed someone to talk to, someone he could be candid with... and Arjuna seemed to be just the right man for the job. So, after all of the other lords had left the banquet hall, Vector had approached him and invited him to go for a walk. However, due to the young prince's curse of clumsiness, it was shaping up to be more of an obstacle course, with little opportunity for conversation.

Vector was debating just going back to the castle and attempting to ease his emotional burden by confiding in Darius (which he knew would be like talking to a rock), when he noticed a low wall of stones winding through the fields to their right. He turned to Arjuna. "Why don't we take a break, then? We can sit down over there and… talk…"

Arjuna tilted his head slightly, but didn't seem too concerned that the newly-appointed Emperor wanted to "talk" with him. "Ahm, okay."

Vector let out a quiet sigh of relief, smiling. "Good." He managed to dash over to the wall without tripping on anything, and plopped himself down on one of the large, flat stones. Arjuna sat down next to him a few moments later, a warm smile on his face. "So, whaddaya- er, I mean, what does Your Highness want to talk about?"

Vector leaned back on his palms, swinging his legs. "Please don't do that… at least, not right now. It's difficult to have others act so formally around me all the time." He smirked, holding his chin high in mock haughtiness. "You may call me Vector."

Arjuna snickered, gripping the edge of the stone with both hands and leaning slightly forward. "Alright, Vecta."

Vector raised an eyebrow. "No, it's Vec-TOR."

Arjuna tilted his head, looking innocently confused. "But that's what I said. Vecta."

Vector scowled. "Vec. TOR. You need to pronounce the "R!""

Arjuna smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "I'm sorry, but Palayur is a long way from Parsis. Most of the people in my province don't even speak Ahriman, so you'll have to forgive me if I have a bit of an accent."

Vector sighed, folding his arms. "I suppose I can forgive you." He glanced over at Arjuna. "I have to admit, I am curious about your province. I've never traveled outside of Parsis, and I haven't learned much about Palayur in my studies."

Arjuna smiled wryly. "That's because we're probably the poorest province in the Empire. The land isn't very good for farming, and we don't have any coastline; the only thing we have going for us is a really big river and some spices. Palayur is also at the very edge of Ahriman territory, right on the border with Parthia." He sighed, leaning backwards and closing his eyes. "Your father had a hard time keeping them out of our lands, and even so we lose territory to them practically every day." He grinned. "I think we could beat them back if everyone fought their best; I mean, I'm still very young, but I've bested almost fifty men in battle already!"

Vector raised an eyebrow, somewhat doubtful. "Fifty men? They must have all been asleep or injured."

Arjuna huffed. "Aya, that's uncalled for! I may not look like much, but I'm as good a fighter as anyone!"

Vector smiled wryly. "I'm sure you are."

"Darn right I am!" Arjuna declared with a grin, completely missing the young prince's sarcasm."But the morale in our tiny, under-supplied army is low, so the odds of us beating the Parthians are really slim."

Vector was taken aback. "I had no idea…" he murmured. "What are you going to do?"

Arjuna shrugged dismissively. "Well, I guess we could either fight them to the bitter end or get so poor that Parthia wouldn't even want to take us over anymore, which is starting to look pretty likely." He pouted. "Although I'd prefer to go out in a blaze of honor and glory. It's a warrior thing, _janaté?"_

Vector's brow furrowed. "This will not do! How dare they try to take our lands?!" He faced Arjuna with a look of determination. "I will conquer Parthia."

Arjuna's eyes widened in disbelief. "I mean no disrespect, but you are joking, right? In terms of land, Parthia's almost twice our size!"

Vector scowled. "Yes, yes, I studied basic geography." He smirked. "But as I stated at the banquet, I have the power of a god on my side." _And, as I discovered at the banquet, he is an insatiable killing machine… winning a war should not be too difficult a feat for Don Thousand._

Arjuna shrugged. "Well, if your god is powerful enough… although my people don't have the same gods you do."

Vector leaned forward slightly. "What kind of gods do you have, then?"

Arjuna smiled softly. "Oh, lots. But I don't really keep track of them." He leaned back on his palms, staring up at the sky, which was beginning to darken. "In Palayur, we believe that when you die, if you lived well enough to rank up, your soul goes to the Astral world. But you don't have to worship any specific gods to rank up, so I don't."

Vector followed Arjuna's gaze, feeling a slight tightening in his chest. "What happens if you... don't rank up?"

Arjuna shrugged. "Your soul gets reincarnated." He smirked. "The nice thing about it is that you get infinite chances. That's my version of it, anyway."

The first star shone through the deep purple of the sky, and Vector found himself staring at the tiny pinprick of light, unable to meet Arjuna's gaze. "I wish I could believe in your gods..." he murmured, a slight lump in his throat.

Arjuna turned to face him, concern etched on his features. "Hē, I know it's not my place to pry, but... well, if something is bothering you, I'm willing to listen."

Vector smiled softly. Despite apparently being a bit of an idiot, Arjuna had discovered the heart of the matter relatively quickly. "How long have you been lord of your province?" he asked, gaze still focused on the stars.

Arjuna's brow furrowed slightly, and he stroked his chin. "Ahm... let's see... maybe three years now?"

"I see." Vector leaned forward and turned his head to face Arjuna. "Was it... hard for you? When you first took over, I mean."

Arjuna blinked. "Hah? ...oh, _acchā_. So that's what this is about." He nodded slowly, looking serious. "It was very hard at first. There was so much going on around me, and I had to somehow be responsible for all of it, even though I was just a kid." He chuckled sheepishly. "I didn't think I could handle the pressure. Still can't, sometimes."

Vector nodded, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "So how do you deal with it?"

Arjuna grinned brightly. "I just find a goal to focus on, and no matter how impossible it is, I give it my all and never give up!" He jumped up and stood on the surface of the stones, striking a dramatic pose. "I call it _kāttobing!"_

Vector smirked. "An impossible goal, huh?" He scrambled to his feet and folded his arms. "We're going to conquer the entire Parthian Empire! Every inch of it!" He grinned. "How's that for kato-bing?"

Arjuna frowned. "Aya, it's _kāttobing_, not-"

Vector shushed him by holding up a hand. "You get to mispronounce my name, I get to mispronounce your weird word."

Arjuna shrugged. "Okay, okay... Vectur."

Vector scowled. "I think I prefer the other wrong way you said it."

Arjuna snickered. "Alright, Vecta." He jumped off the wall and hit the ground with a soft thump. "We should go riding sometime," he said, grinning up at the prince.

Vector grimaced. "No thank you. Horses and I don't get along."

"You could ride an elephant," Arjuna suggested. "They're really popular in my province."

Vector blanched. "If I fell from atop one of those, I would definitely suffer more than a scrape or two." He hopped off the wall, landing with his feet spread apart. Straightening, he glanced around and noticed a narrow, winding path leading towards the main courtyard. "It seems to be getting dark; perhaps we should return to the castle." Motioning towards the path, he smirked. "I know a shortcut..."

Arjuna didn't seem particularly enthused. "Ahm, there's nothing life-threatening involved in this shortcut, is there?"

Vector thought for a moment, then shrugged. "It does run past the archery range."

Arjuna looked a bit worried, but he clenched his fist in determination. "Let's do this!"

* * *

Darius raised an eyebrow. "Pardon me, Sire, but are those a tiger's claw marks on your arm?"

Vector scowled. "How was I supposed to know they were letting Raja out for a walk when we cut through the menagerie?"

Darius dipped a bit of white cloth into a bowl of water and proceeded to wash the prince's wound. "Was someone else with you? I hope he or she is not hurt..."

Vector squirmed. "Lord Arjuna is being taken care of by his servants." He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "It's nothing serious... just a few scratches. It would have been a lot worse if that stray arrow hadn't been stopped by his outrageous hair."

Darius frowned. "Your Highness, this could be a dangerous time for you. I urge you to exercise caution, especially outside the palace grounds."

Vector laughed dryly. "There was no sabotage involved in today's adventure, Darius."

The manservant started wrapping a long, white strip of cloth around Vector's arm. "Respectfully, that is not what I meant." He looked Vector straight in the eye, an expression of grave concern on his face. "I believe it would be prudent for you to take one or two guards with you whenever you leave the castle, Sire. Xerxes may be out of the way, but he had many supporters. It is only a matter of time before one of them tries to kill you."

Vector raised an eyebrow. "Have you heard anything from your "old friends?""

Darius shrugged. "My "friends" have never been a talkative lot, but I will ask around." The slightest hint of a smirk graced his face for a moment or two and then was gone. "Speaking from personal experience, Sire, it is almost always easier to tell if a contract has been made by watching the client rather than the assassin. Lord Teispes of Elam is very likely to try something. That is why I urge caution for now." He continued to wrap the bandage around Vector's arm, expression serious. "You are now the most powerful man in the Empire. Believe me when I say that there is no one that you can trust."

Vector nodded. "I understand." He leaned back slightly. "I heard that you were the one who saved me at the banquet."

Darius dipped his head. "I was merely fulfilling my duty, Sire."

Vector was mildly surprised; he'd thought that if anyone could avoid being fooled by Don Thousand's illusions, it would be Darius. However, it seemed that even the stoic manservant was not impervious to the hooded man's strange magic. Vector found it disturbing how easily Don Thousand could warp and bend even such personal things as perceptions and memories to his will. He was beginning to think he'd made a bad deal, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

Darius mercilessly tightened the bandage until Vector yelped in pain, then tied it swiftly and leaned back to examine his work. "Has Your Highness decided what course of action to take in dealing with the Parthian Empire?"

Vector nodded. "I'm going to conquer it, of course."

Darius frowned. "Might I humbly suggest some simple deterrence measures instead for the time being? Conquest would require a large-scale military campaign, Sire; I am not sure something of that magnitude can be immediately organized."

Vector raised an eyebrow. "I never said that it had to be immediate. Actually, I was planning on waiting for a while, at least until the lords settle down a bit."

Darius dipped his head. "Forgive me, Sire. That is indeed a wise course of action." His expression spoke of discomfort, though, and he coughed awkwardly. "And since you will not be traveling to Parthia with the army, I'm sure the Queen your mother will be thrilled to find you here to receive her; I got word yesterday that she is coming to visit."

Vector's expression slowly took on a look of disgust and even horror. "God's blood, no..." he muttered. "She's certifiably insane, Darius! The woman is an outright loon! Why do you think Father sent her away to Mazdai in the first place?!"

Darius fidgeted. "Unfortunately, Sire, the Queen and her attendants have already traveled a great distance, and all efforts to deter her have been unsuccessful. It seems there is nothing to be done." He deliberately avoided eye-contact. "However, if Your Highness were to be out of the city on important military business..."

Vector got the hint. "I believe it would be a good idea to implement some simple deterrence measures for the time being," he said, hopping to his feet. "I will take a legion of troops to Palayur and work on holding back Parthia's forces."

Darius nodded, looking relieved. "Excellent strategy, Sire. Would you like me to accompany you?" The question was undoubtedly a thinly-veiled plea for a chance to escape.

Vector smirked. "Of course. You may leave whoever you see fit in charge of the palace for when the Queen arrives. I would like to be able to leave in three days."

Darius smiled slightly, which was a sign that he was experiencing joy that might have made tears stream from his eyes had he not been born an unemotional rock. "Thank you, Sire. I will make the necessary arrangements." With that, he dipped his head and scurried out of the room, leaving Vector alone…

"Avoiding your mother? That's cold."

...or so he thought. Vector sighed, not even bothering to look around for the source of the voice. "Come out where I can see you."

Don Thousand appeared in front of him in a flash of red light, smirking mischievously. "I assume you would like me to ensure your success in the battles to come, mere excuses though they may be."

Vector folded his arms. "That is the general idea, yes." He scowled. "But you require _specific_ instructions, don't you?"

The hooded man adopted an expression of mock hurt. "Is Your Highness still upset about the banquet? Even though I did my best to fix things for you quite nicely…"

Vector gritted his teeth. "This is not a joke! I know that Xerxes was dangerous, but human lives aren't something you can just toy with!"

Don Thousand smirked wickedly. "Give it a few years; you'll change your mind." He spread his arms. "I will reveal to you the mysteries of the universe, and you will realize, as I have, that the life of any one human is not nearly as significant as you think."

Vector narrowed his eyes. "I doubt it. Contrary to whatever you may think of me, I refuse to fall prey to your fiendish mind tricks."

Don Thousand's smirk only grew. "You have an indomitable spirit, my young prince. That is why I find you so fascinating." He dipped his head. "Very well, then. What are your specific orders?"

"You will accompany me and my troops to Palayur," Vector commanded harshly, arms still folded. "You will remain out of sight, not doing anything unless I call for you."

Don Thousand shrugged. "I do that anyway."

Vector scowled. "When the time comes to engage the enemy, you will make sure that we obliterate them completely, and you will make it so that no soldier of Ahrima loses his life. Not a one." He narrowed his eyes. "And the word "soldier" as used here refers to any man, woman, or anything in between that enters the battlefield for any reason being a citizen or resident of any province of the Ahriman Empire."

Don Thousand chuckled. "In just a few hours, you've become an expert litigator. Your future is promising, indeed." Having earned only a sour glare from Vector, he bowed. "It shall be done, my prince." He then disappeared in a flash of red light, leaving Vector to stare angrily at the spot where he'd been, boring a hole in the hand-woven rug with his eyes.

After a few moments of silence, he sighed deeply, leaned back against the wall and slid to the floor, arms folded over his knees. "Being Emperor is a lot of work," he muttered to himself, closing his eyes.

* * *

**Author's Note: I really don't have much of anything relevant to say here, except that I just watched Episode 136, didn't understand a word, and got this sneaking suspicion that canon is going to totally gank all over everything I have written here. Oh well…**

**Arjuna is actually a few years older than Vector here, so it wouldn't be too weird for Vec to ask him for advice. Also, I felt really strange writing the Astral-world-religion in here, 'cause everything else is so serious and then I'm using terms like 'rank up.' O_o**

**Oh, and abrupt chapter ending is abrupt. Sorry. Transitions hate me.**


	4. Equo Ne Credite

_- - Equo Ne Credite - -_

_Do Not Trust the Horse_

* * *

Vector paced back and forth in front of the stables, watching the servants load supplies onto the backs of work horses and camels for the journey to Palayur. He had every reason to be nervous; he was, after all, about to embark on a likely perilous journey whose destination was only more peril, he'd never been in battle before, and he only had Don Thousand's rather slippery promises to ensure his success. However, in actuality, the reason for his agitation was much simpler: he still didn't know how to ride a horse. While he would be able to spend most of the journey in the relative comfort of a heavy-duty carriage, Arjuna had informed him that certain areas of Palayur were very mountainous, and the terrain was likely to get too rough for wheels. At some point, he would have to either ride or walk... and, frankly, he was embarrassed. Vector was sure that no one would take him seriously if they found out about his "issue," but no matter how he wracked his brain, there was just no way around it.

He was considering acting like a monumental jerk and making four servants carry him around on a divan when Arjuna shouted at him from across the courtyard and came running over. "Hē! Vecta!" He looked extremely excited.

Vector closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. "Yes?"

Arjuna grinned broadly, hopping up and down with excitement. "Are we gonna leave today?"

Vector rolled his eyes, smirking slightly in amusement. "This is the seventh time I've told you: yes. We should be out of here by noon." He suddenly remembered something the lord had told him three days ago. "Um, where we're going... how practical would riding an elephant be?"

Arjuna blinked. "Ahm... about as practical as riding in your wagon thing, I guess. Elephants aren't good with rocks."

Vector sighed dejectedly. "I see..." He wasn't usually outrageously mean to his servants, but the divan was suddenly looking like a very good idea.

Arjuna snickered. "You really don't like horses, do you?"

Vector scowled at him. "Mocking me won't help us get under way any faster."

Arjuna held up his hands in feigned innocence. "Who said I was mocking you? I was just laughing a little." He stroked his chin. "You could ride a donkey or a mule. That would probably be better in the mountains, anyway."

Vector's eyes widened in angry disbelief. "What?! Kings only ride donkeys when they're coming in _peace_, you idiot! That would send the totally wrong message!"

Arjuna blinked. "Really? Huh." He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I guess you learn something new every day."

Vector was getting frustrated. "Everyone knows that! And _you_ have the gall to laugh at _me?!_"

Arjuna took a step back and held up his hands. "Aya, sorry! But you have to admit, it is pretty funny..."

Vector picked up an orange from one of the packs of supplies and chucked it at Arjuna with all his might. "IDIOT! Maybe YOU should ride the donkey! It would suit you, you ASS!"

Arjuna yelped as the fruit struck him square on the forehead. Rubbing his head, he bent over, picked up the orange, and took a huge bite out of it. "Mmph... this is good!" he gushed, spraying orange juice as he spoke. "Thanks!"

Vector sighed, his anger having been deflated by this somewhat sad display. "You're not supposed to eat the peel," he muttered.

Arjuna looked shocked. "But that's the best part!"

Someone suddenly burst into peals of harsh laughter, and Vector turned his head to see who it was. He was surprised to see Lady Ahura approaching with some of her servants. The lady was dressed in a simple pale-green dress and a pastel pink head covering, a bright summer outfit that made her look significantly younger, and less formidable, than she had at the banquet. She dipped her head to him, expression set in her signature thin-lipped smile. "I couldn't help but overhear. It sounds like you have a first class fool on your hands." She turned to Arjuna, smirking wickedly. "Are you sure Palayur did not simply send us their jester?"

Arjuna took a vicious bite out of the orange, looking peeved. "Aya! I'll have you know I'm real, actual nobility, thank you very much!"

Vector ignored him and turned to address Ahura. "I don't mean to sound rude, but I thought you had already returned to Susa. If I had known you were planning on staying in Parsis-"

Ahura cut him off with a wave of her hand. "It's quite alright; I know you had to kick the lords out yesterday to prepare for this journey. I wouldn't dream of taking advantage of your hospitality." She folded her arms. "I have family friends in Parsis proper, so I am merely visiting them before I depart."

"Oh, so you're staying in the city…" Vector was secretly glad that he wouldn't have to make any last-minute arrangements. "What brings you here, then?"

Arjuna snickered mischievously. "I hope you came to teach Prince Vecta how to ride a horse."

Vector's face burned bright red. "Arjuna!"

Ahura held a hand up to her ear. "What was that, Palayur? My ears are not as good as they used to be." She narrowed her eyes. "I certainly hope you were not saying anything disrespectful..."

Arjuna withered under her gaze. "Ah, no ma'am, I just said that, ahm, you look very nice today?"

Ahura nodded approvingly. "Mind your tongue, child. No one takes you seriously as it is." She turned to Vector with a thin smile. "I merely came to give Your Highness my regards, and to wish you safe journeys and success in your battles."

Vector smiled. "Thank you. We will be back before long, I'm sure."

Ahura's expression became serious. "I've been hearing rumors recently about plans to conquer the Parthian Empire."

Vector met her gaze. "It's no rumor. I will conquer Parthia."

Ahura folded her arms with a soft 'hm.' "Then, if I may, allow me to give you one piece of advice." Her grey eyes, sharp as flint, seemed to pierce right through him. "War is a potent wine, and this nation has been drunk on it for many years. The shedding of blood always works a strange magic on the hearts of men. Do not allow it to darken yours." There was an almost imperceptible hint of sadness in her voice.

Vector felt a small lump in his throat. _Sometimes_ _I think my heart is plenty dark already..._ He hid his discomfort with a bright smile, clasping his hands behind his back. "Don't worry, I'm only doing this with the very best of intentions: to ensure the safety of our people."

Ahura's expression didn't change, and Vector knew she could see right through him. "A noble cause, indeed," she said, and dipped her head. "Well, I wouldn't want to inconvenience Your Highness any further, so I will be taking my leave."

Arjuna finished off the orange with something of a flourish and grinned. "Have fun with your friends, Lady!"

Ahura narrowed her eyes and gave him a dark smile. "Thank you, Palayur," she said evilly. "I hope you become seriously injured."

Arjuna made a strange noise that sounded almost like a squeak. "What did I ever do to you?!"

Ahura simply smirked and turned her back on him, heading towards the main gate. "Wisdom and honor be with you, my Prince."

Vector's gaze fixated on the tiny clouds of dust kicked up by her sandals as she left. "And with you, Lady."

Arjuna tilted his head quizzically. "What's with the 'wisdom and honor' stuff?"

Vector sighed and turned to face him. "It is a traditional blessing used in parting."

"Gotcha." Arjuna leaned back against a pile of sacks and let out a sigh of relief. "That woman is scary. Though she seems to like you…"

Vector smiled sheepishly. "To be honest, I'm glad she's on my side; I wouldn't want to have to fight her."

Arjuna stuck out his lower lip, pouting. "Women are supposed to be the weaker sex, right?" He smirked mischievously. "Maybe she's really a man…"

Vector couldn't help giggling a little. "I don't suppose you'd be brave enough to find out?"

Arjuna lept back, a look of horror on his face. "Ewww! Do you even know what you're saying?!"

At that moment, Darius entered the courtyard and made his way to Vector's side, whereupon he cleared his throat. "The troops have been assembled and are awaiting your marching orders, Sire."

Arjuna gasped excitedly. "Does this mean…?!"

Vector sighed. "Yes… we're leaving."

Arjuna whooped and raced off towards the main gate, kicking up a cloud of dust as he ran. "Yeah! We're gonna go beat some Parthians! _Kāttobing!"_

Vector coughed once or twice, fanning the dust away from his face with a hand. Darius squinted towards the main gate, looking a little annoyed. "Lord Arjuna is certainly enthusiastic…"

Vector shook his head, smiling in amusement. "At least we know this trip isn't going to be boring."

* * *

_- - Two Weeks Later - -_

Arjuna groaned, stretching his arms above his head. "God, this is BORING!"

Vector, who was stretched out on the carriage's makeshift cot, didn't even bother opening his eyes. "I thought you said this trip was, quote, 'gonna be a breeze.'"

Arjuna groaned again and let his head bang back against the carriage wall. "It never seems as bad as it is when you're not actually making the trip anymore…" He covered his eyes with his hands. "Gah, I just wanna DO something!"

Vector winced as the carriage hit what sounded like a rock, causing a sharp jolt. "Stop complaining, or I'll make you go march with the foot soldiers."

Arjuna made a high-pitched whining noise, still covering his eyes. "Please don't, Your Mercifulness… it's hellishly hot out there."

Vector let out a soft sigh, opening his eyes to stare at the wood ceiling above him. They'd been traveling for two weeks and were nearing their destination, but the trip had been mind-numbingly dull and the weather had been extremely hot. Darius had told him that the cook had been laying out food on rocks and watching it sizzle in the scorching sun. The worst part was that the men were beginning to weaken already, and morale was dropping. Darius had advised him to do something about it, such as leaving the carriage and appearing before them, but Vector's pride wouldn't let him walk and he still didn't feel comfortable riding a horse. He always joined General Haxam and his officers when they made camp at night, but other than that, he rarely drug himself out of the carriage. The constant bumping and jerking was starting to wear his nerves thin, and Arjuna complaining was not helping matters…

Suddenly, the carriage came to a jarring halt, and Vector was nearly tossed off the cot. He scrambled to a sitting position, rubbing his head and muttering expletives under his breath.

Arjuna scooted over to the window and peered about. "What's going on?" He yelped and scrambled backwards as Darius swung open the door from the outside.

The manservant dipped his head. "Sire, pardon the intrusion, but the road appears to be blocked."

Vector gritted his teeth and let out a groan. "God's teeth! Blocked by what?!"

Darius was unfazed by the prince's frustration. "A man and his horse, Sire. The beast looks badly injured, and its rider is trapped beneath it, unconscious."

Vector was about to grumble some more choice words, when an idea came to him. He ducked his head and hopped out of the carriage, blinking a couple of times to adjust his eyes to the bright light. "Darius, get a couple of men, as much water as you think we can spare, and some bandages and take me to this horse and rider."

Arjuna perked up and bolted out of the carriage. "Are you gonna help him?"

Vector nodded. "Of course. Obviously, the man is in need." He smiled wryly. "Plus, it's something to do." _And hopefully the men will see me doing something noble and morale will get a little better..._

Arjuna whooped and grabbed Darius by the shoulders. "I'll help too! Lead the way, Stubbles!"

Darius fingered his unshaven chin self-consciously and motioned towards the front of the carriage. "This way, Sires…"

As they walked, Vector noticed that Darius seemed a little more melancholy than usual. He leaned over towards him and lowered his voice. "Personally, I think the unshaven look suits you." He smirked. "It makes you look rugged."

Darius gave a slight start, then focused his gaze directly ahead of him, looking a bit awkward. "Ah, thank you, Sire."

Vector allowed himself a couple of mental snickers. Over the course of the trip, the manservant had been getting unusually moody and had become very fun to mess with. Finding and pushing Darius' buttons had been the primary form of entertainment for him for the past week, and it still hadn't gotten old.

Shortly, they came upon a small crowd of men gathered together in a circle. They all turned around and stared when they noticed Vector approaching, and some even knelt on the ground and started to bow.

Vector motioned for them to rise, waving his hands. "Please, there's no need for that." He stepped forward, and the crowd parted before him like the Red Sea. He could now clearly see the cause of the commotion; a huge white horse with patches of grey speckles on its sides lay on its stomach in the middle of the road. Its sides heaved and its nostrils flared with ragged, heavy breaths, and blood seeped out of an angry red gash on its left flank. Underneath its stomach, a man lay facedown on the ground, unmoving. He was wearing what looked like a full set of silver armor, though there was no helmet to be seen. His shield lay on the ground a few feet away; its crest depicted a white, winged horse, and it looked to be in very good shape despite a few dents.

Arjuna ran up to the man and attempted to drag him out from under the horse by pulling his arms. After a few seconds of struggling, he let go and shook his head. "We'll need more people; this guy isn't budging."

Darius suddenly returned with a large bucket of water and a pile of cloth. Vector jumped slightly; he hadn't even seen the manservant leave. "Just put that to the side for now," he instructed, turning towards the crowd. "If you're not busy, help me lift this horse." He turned to Arjuna. "You keep hold of his arms, and as soon as you think he's loose, pull him out of there."

Arjuna nodded, kneeling and grasping the man's wrists. Without waiting to see who would volunteer to help him, Vector crouched down beside the horse and slid his arm under its belly. Darius was instantly at his side, and within a few seconds, the horse was surrounded by soldiers, each preparing for the heavy strain that was to come.

Vector adjusted his stance slightly. "On my count, try to lift the left side as much as you can; we'll tilt the animal away from its rider so Arjuna can pull him out." The men around him nodded, and he gritted his teeth. "One… two… three!"

There arose a medley of groans and curses as the men strained to lift the huge horse, which, for its part, was relaxed enough to not kick its hooves at anyone. After a second or two, the left end of the horse was about a hand's-breadth in the air, and Arjuna tugged violently at the man's arms, leaning backwards. The man was suddenly tugged free with a force that landed Arjuna on his rear, and those lifting the horse released their load the instant everyone was out of the way. Vector was left doubled-over with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. _Who knew lifting one horse could be so much work?_

Arjuna gently rolled the man onto his back and started pinching his cheek. "Ay! Are you alright?" When the man failed to respond, Arjuna slapped him across the cheek. "ARE YOU OKAY?!"

The poor man woke up with a weak yelp and tried to sit up, but he was suddenly overcome by a fit of ragged coughing that left him flat on his back. Arjuna quickly held a hand over his chest to keep him from moving. "Can I get some water over here?" he shouted, motioning towards the soldier closest to the water bucket.

The man coughed once and tried to sit up again, despite protests from Arjuna. "Mach…" he rasped, seeming desperate. "I have to… tend to Mach…"

Arjuna planted both hands on the man's shoulders and pinned him to the ground. "Don't move!" he commanded sternly. "We'll take care of Mach. That's your horse, right?"

The man nodded. "He is badly injured…" He dissolved into another fit of wracking coughs, his whole body shuddering with each one.

Arjuna grabbed the water bucket and waited for the coughing to stop before pouring some into the man's mouth. "You must have been eating sand for a while, huh?" After he finished pouring, he held the bucket up to Vector. "He should be fine."

Vector nodded and took the bucket, focusing his attention on the horse. Upon further inspection, he could tell that the gash was quite deep and was keeping the horse from standing, which was a serious problem. He dunked a length of the cloth in the water and carefully worked on cleaning the wound, giving the horse a reassuring pat now and then to keep it from kicking him. Surprisingly, the animal seemed quite calm despite its injuries, and Vector was, frankly, shocked that it did not attempt to brain him with its hoof the first chance it got.

As he cleaned the gash, Vector noticed that the edges of the cut were extraordinarily smooth; far too smooth to have been made by a rock or tree branch. "Someone slashed this horse with a sword," he mused, trying to gauge the length of the wound. "This cut could have been made with a scimitar."

The armored man, with assistance from Arjuna, slowly rose to a sitting position. "We were attacked by a Parthian patrol about ten miles up the road," he explained, a tinge of guilt in his voice. "I was careless… Mach is not used to this heat, and he was tired from travel, yet I chose to engage them…"

Vector was about to inform the man that his horse's injury was most likely fatal, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Suddenly, he had an idea, and, looking around briefly to make sure no one was watching him too closely, he closed his eyes. "Don Thousand…"

He could feel the hooded man's presence, like a shadow at the back of his mind. "Yes?"

"Heal this horse," Vector whispered, fingers clenched around the wet cloth.

Don Thousand sighed, exasperated. "That's all? Do it yourself."

Vector gritted his teeth. "I can't! The wound is too deep; it's probably cut to the bone."

"...Fine."

Vector gasped as his vision was overwhelmed by a burst of red light, and he felt a sharp pain in his fingertips. "W- What did you do?!"

Don Thousand chuckled darkly. "I gave you the power to do it yourself." His presence began to fade. "I did promise that I would do whatever you asked, but healing horses is a bit too mundane for me."

Vector opened his eyes and scowled. "Bloody useless…" He glanced down at his hands; they didn't look any different. Hesitantly, he reached out his right hand and pressed it against the gash.

The instant he touched the horse's skin, an electrifying tingle ran down his arm and spread to his fingertips, as though a bolt of energy had coursed through him. The horse let out a terrified whinny and began flailing its legs, causing Vector to scramble backwards, staring in shock at the animal's left flank. The skin was completely unbroken; save for a thin, pink scar, there was no trace of the ugly gash that had marred it only seconds before.

Vector sat, unmoving, on the ground, watching the horse gradually calm down and work on pushing itself up to a standing position. Around him, the soldiers stood frozen in amazement; both Arjuna and the man in armor sat watching the horse with wide eyes and mouths hanging open. For a space of nearly five minutes, the pounding of the horse's hooves was the only sound that could be heard along the side of the road.

Suddenly, the man in armor sprang to his feet and ran towards his horse. "Mach!" The horse seemed to whinny in delight as its rider ground to a halt and reached out to stroke its mane. The man turned to face Vector, deep gratitude shining in his eyes. "From the bottom of my heart, I thank you, sir," he said, dipping his head. "Might I have the honour of knowing your name?"

Vector slowly pushed himself to his feet, dusting off his legs before straightening. "I am Prince Vector of Parsis, lord of the province of Acina and the Mediyan Islands, sovereign Emperor of Ahrima."

The man gave a start and hurriedly clenched a fist to his chest, sinking to one knee and bowing his head. "Your Highness! Forgive me for not showing proper courtesy." He lifted his head slightly, grey eyes focused on Vector. "I am Sir Durbe, Count of Ostfriesland. I come bearing a message from His Majesty King Frederik Wilhelm of Lower Saxony."

Vector raised an eyebrow. "Saxony? You've traveled quite a distance, sir knight." He motioned for the knight to stand. "Let us hear this message."

Durbe stood perfectly straight, hands clasped behind his back. "His Majesty King Frederik Wilhelm would have it known that he shares Ahrima's detestation of the Parthians. They have often raided our lands and sacked outlying villages in manner most dishonourable." The hint of anger in his voice suggested that he was speaking from personal experience. "If Your Highness would declare war on Parthia, my king has instructed me to tell you that he would gladly offer Saxony's assistance." He dipped his head. "As a sign of His Majesty's good faith, I have been sent to assist Your Highness with your current endeavours to drive the Parthian raiders out of Ahriman lands."

Vector would have been impressed had he not just found the knight crushed beneath his own horse. "How many men are with you?"

Durbe didn't bat an eye. "None, Your Highness." He glanced back at his horse. "But, at the risk of sounding prideful, Mach and I fight with the strength of an hundred men."

Vector folded his arms. "Forgive me if I sound skeptical, Sir Durbe, but you said that a Parthian patrol just gravely injured your 'Mach.' If you can show me a basis for your claim, I will gladly accept your king's gracious offer."

Durbe nodded. "I will try mine best to convince you, Your Highness." With that, he turned and approached his horse, stroking its mane soothingly. "You can unfurl them now…"

Vector was about to ask the knight what he meant by that when Mach whinnied and reared up onto his back legs, and suddenly what Vector had thought were speckles unfolded into a pair of enormous, snow-white wings.

Arjuna yelped and took a step back. "What is that thing?!"

Durbe shot him a dark look. "Mach is what the Greeks call a Pegasus. He and I have fought many battles together; he was only injured today because I told him to hide his wings. I wanted to avoid attracting undue attention."

Mach pawed the ground with a hoof and snorted, as if in agreement.

Vector's shock gradually subsided, and a grin spread across his face. "...You, Sir Durbe, are most welcome to assist us."

Durbe bowed, smiling. "I will do my best, Sire."

* * *

**Author's Note: This chapter was partly inspired by Durbe the Barian, whose kind review went something like this: "Durbedurbedurbedurbedurbedurbedurbe." XD**

**I made Durbe a Saxon instead of an Englishman like I was planning to, because doesn't Mach just sound like a German name? Also, look up the flag of Lower Saxony. You will understand. Also, random note, Vector has now inherited the land that Cambyses used to be lord over, so he gets an extra title.**

**Now, I would like to take a moment to comment on the direction canon is heading in (so, spoiler alert if you haven't seen ep. 138)…**

**Me: BAAAAWWWWW THEY KILLED VECTOR! THEY KILLED MY BABY! HE WAS SO YOUNG! *sniffle* *hic* Uwaaaaahhhhhh… *sniffle***

**Vector: …are you seriously curling up into a ball right now?! Who even actually does that?!**

**Me: *sniff* At least I still have you in this fan-fiction… *sniff* BAAAAAWWWWWW! *sobs uncontrollably***

**Vector: Idiot. This dumb thing is probably turning into an AU, anyway.**

**?: *sniffle* waaahhh… *sniffle* *sob***

**Vector: What the- Darius?! The f*** is with you?!**

**Darius: *sniff* Don't die, Sire! *****sniffle***

**Vector: ...I'm just gonna walk away now, I think… **


	5. Alis Aquilae

_- - Alis Aquilae - -_

_On Eagle's Wings_

* * *

Durbe knocked lightly on the door of the carriage. "Your Highness, if I may, I much desire a word with you." He sounded like he was trying very hard to be polite, which struck Vector as a bad sign; the knight usually made his impeccable propriety seem effortless. "Might I enter?"

Vector hesitated, at first reluctant to let Durbe in. However, after a moment or two of deliberation, he steeled himself and nodded, then realized that the knight couldn't see him and pulled open the door. "Certainly."

It had been nearly a day since Durbe and his winged horse first joined Vector's forces. During that time, Vector had retreated back into the carriage, no longer even bothering to come out for meals. He'd spent hours lying in the darkness, staring at his right hand and trying to wrap his mind around the way he'd magically healed the pegasus. The more he thought about what had happened, the more disturbed and frightened he became. Don Thousand had obviously infused him with some of his dark power, and Vector's imagination raced in frantic circles, always looping back to the worst, most horrifying scenario: what if this power _changed_ him? Made him into the same kind of monster as Don Thousand? The doubts and fears that had been nagging at his mind since the day he first made his pact with the skeletal god escaped from where he'd swept them underneath the rug and flooded his thoughts. Vector felt like he was staring into the yawning chasm of a dark abyss, trapped at the edge by insurmountable walls of his own making; was there really no escape?

Sinking beneath the weight of these thoughts, Vector thought initially that he couldn't bear to face anyone else who might ask him about them, so he'd shut himself up in isolation. However, his conscience constantly reminded him of his duties as the head of this expedition, and he knew that moping around all alone would only hinder what he made everyone march through terrible heat for two weeks to achieve. It was a difficult battle, but eventually Obligation and Reason won out over Emotions, and Vector grudgingly promised himself that he would open the door for the first person who asked him to. He was thankful that that person had turned out to be Durbe; he knew Arjuna would dig into the heart of his problem immediately and try to root it out, and he wasn't sure he could survive that. As he let go of the door handle and sat back down on the cot, he took a moment to mentally prepare a mask of calm, collected ease; if he could fool the knight, maybe he could fool himself, too.

Durbe ducked into the carriage and sat on the wooden bench, armor clanking with his every movement. It was obvious that he wasn't used to the heat; he was sweating like a pig and his face was bright red. "We are nearing the section of road where I encountered the Parthian patrol that injured Mach."

Vector folded his arms. "I see. What are the odds that we will encounter this same patrol?"

Durbe shrugged. "Either zero or one hundred percent, Sire. It depends on your definition of 'encounter.'"

Vector raised an eyebrow. "...what do you mean by that?"

Durbe coughed awkwardly; he looked slightly uncomfortable. "Well, I admit that I rather lost mine composure when they wounded Mach, so I left their bodies strewn about the road. In a strictly physical sense, we will most definitely encounter them."

"..."

Vector wasn't quite sure what to say after that. He realized, of course, that killing people was Durbe's job, and that he himself would soon be doing it as a necessity of war, but he simply couldn't picture the mild-mannered knight slaughtering an entire patrol. Although, Durbe _had_ claimed that he fought with the strength of a hundred men, and Vector sensed that he was not the type of person who would make such a claim lightly.

Durbe fidgeted slightly, his discomfort having apparently been increased by Vector's lack of response. "Forgive me, Your Highness, if I have initiated conflict without your express orders..."

Vector suppressed a giggle. _He looks like a bashful maiden... is ridiculous modesty part of his code of chivalry? _"You are not my subject, Sir Durbe. Your king may have loaned you to me for the time being, but you are perfectly within your rights to exercise your own judgment. You were attacked; how could I possibly find fault in your decision to defend yourself?" He leaned forward slightly. "But I assume that you didn't come here just to tell me we might run over some bodies in the road."

Durbe nodded. "Your Highness is most discerning. In fact I-"

Vector motioned for him to stop. "Before you continue, you don't have to call me 'Your Highness' all the time. As I said, you are not my subject."

Durbe dipped his head to show that he understood. "Pray, how then would you have me address you, sir?"

Vector shrugged. "Vector is fine." He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I may introduce myself in high style, but all the titles get annoying in daily use."

Durbe gave a subdued smile. "'Tis true; I myself often forget that I am a count, and do not answer to it when I am addressed as such."

Vector mentally kicked himself; he'd forgotten that Durbe was a count, too. "Now that we've gotten that taken care of, please continue."

Durbe nodded, expression serious. "Sire Vector, though the patrol I mentioned will not be bothering us, we _are_ nearing the border with Parthia, and may be attacked at any time."

Vector was starting to get the feeling that he knew what Durbe wanted from him, but he chose to ignore it. "I see; you may instruct General Haxam to make sure the men are ready for battle, then."

Durbe wouldn't be deterred that easily. "I will. However, I think that it would be a good idea for you to ride alongside us, or at least leave the carriage. There are some safety concerns, as the Parthians are rather well-known for their frequent use of flame-tipped arrows. Additionally, since you healed Mach, the soldiers have become anxious to see you, and some grumble that you are not planning on even coming out of here..." He gave a slight start, looking suddenly flustered. "Ah! Forgive my boldness, Sire!"

Vector simply sighed, defeated at last by the knight's repetition of what everyone around him and even his own conscience had been saying for days. "No, no, it's fine. You're right, of course, I just..." He trailed off as something occurred to him. "Sir Durbe, I am glad for your advice and will readily do as you suggest... but did Arjuna put you up to this?"

Durbe's immediate discomfort confirmed Vector's suspicions. "What would make you think that, Sire?"

Vector laughed once and placed his hands on his hips. "I can believe that the soldiers would be curious to see me, since I appear to have performed a small-scale miracle. What I cannot believe, however, is that they would grumble about me in front of you, an obvious authority figure." He narrowed his eyes. "Unless whoever was doing the grumbling knew that he would most likely suffer no consequences, knew that he might be able to get to me through you, and was brash enough to actually do something like this."

Durbe avoided making eye contact. "...I gave him my word that I would not reveal his name…"

Vector rolled his eyes, smiling in amusement. "Not to worry, you've revealed nothing." He leaned back against the wooden wall of the carriage. "But I have to admit, I am quite surprised, both at your involvement in this and Arjuna's uncharacteristic use of his brain."

Durbe's grey eyes shone with concern. "He did seem very worried about you, Sire." From the look on his face, the knight at least shared some of the feeling.

Vector's brow furrowed. "Are you… worried about me as well?"

Durbe folded his hands. "You saved my best friend; I am greatly indebted to you. Though we have not yet had the chance to come to know each other well, I would be in violation of the sacred code of chivalry and the oath I took 'pon my knighthood if I did not come to your aid."

Vector was impressed by Durbe's integrity; he'd heard that most knights didn't actually follow that chivalry thing. Somehow, simply seeing Durbe's pure-hearted loyalty and concern was a little reassuring to him; he refused to believe that he could be swallowed by the darkness when such a light-filled soul had promised to pull him out. Deciding to cast aside the horrifyingly depressing thoughts that had plagued him in favor of those that were less depressing, he suddenly became deeply aware once again of the somewhat trivial problem that had driven him into hiding in the carriage in the first place. "Well, I thank you for your concern, and I did promise that I would come outside," he began, deliberately avoiding eye-contact. "But there's... ah, a little problem with that..."

Durbe seemed confused. "A problem?"

Vector felt his cheeks redden. "...ican'tride..." he whispered to the floorboards. Why was he telling _Durbe?!_ Of all people, the one who called a winged _horse_ his best friend was the least likely to understand, and yet...

Durbe blinked. "Ah, pardon me, I could not hear-"

"I can't ride!" Vector blurted, the words coming out of his mouth before his Reason had a chance to hold them down. His face flushed violently. "Horses just hate me. I've never been able to mount one without getting bucked. The longest I've ever ridden was two minutes." The words just kept pouring out of his mouth, and why oh why oh why was he saying all this to _Durbe?!_

Durbe, for his part, seemed only mildly surprised. "I see..." He looked thoughtful. "Have you brought along a horse for yourself despite that?"

Vector nodded slowly, unsure of where the knight was going with this. "I haven't told anyone besides you and Arjuna, so I did bring along my stallion, Sassan, to keep up appearances."

Durbe dipped his head. "If Your Highness would permit me, I would like to try something."

Vector narrowed his eyes. _Why do I have a bad feeling about this...?_ "Alright, I'll bite; what do you suggest?"

* * *

Vector gulped. "A- Are you quite sure about this, Sir Durbe?"

Durbe nodded. "I am quite confident that Mach will be able to teach you to ride properly. He is extremely intelligent and very gentle."

Vector glanced up at the pegasus' long, white face, uneasy. "He's also huge... and he flies." He blanched. "Oh God, what if he starts to fly while I'm up there?! I'll fall off and break my neck!"

Durbe was surely starting to get frustrated, but his grey eyes held only firm reassurance. "I've told him to furl his wings; you will not fall."

Mach snorted, pawing at the ground with a hoof. His wings were, indeed, plastered against his sides, but Vector still felt uncomfortable. He did realize the opportunity he was being afforded, though, and knew it would hurt Durbe if he refused his help. He gritted his teeth. "Fine. Now how do I get up there?"

Durbe knelt on the ground beside Mach and held out his hands, cupping them together. "I will give you a boost, Sire."

Vector took a deep breath, steeling himself, then placed his left foot into Durbe's hands, pushed himself upwards, and swung his right leg over to the other side of Mach's back, and suddenly he was sitting in the saddle. He immediately lost his balance, fell forward with a yelp and hugged the horse's strong neck desperately. Mach snorted and shook his head, stepping backwards. Vector felt the horse moving underneath him and shut his eyes tight, waiting for the inevitable jolt that would send him flying into the air. _Funny_, he thought to himself wryly._ I didn't used to be this afraid when Hamza..._ He didn't allow himself to finish that thought; he gritted his teeth and pushed it from his mind, as if he could forget he'd even had it in the first place. Shaking his head, he opened his eyes and gasped. _The ground is... moving?_ Blinking and straightening slightly, he realized that Mach was moving at a brisk trot, hooves dancing across the ground, kicking up tiny clouds of dust as they struck the road. Vector felt himself bouncing gently, but the movement felt so controlled it was almost relaxing. He straightened completely and slowly relinquished his death-grip on Mach's neck to grab the saddle's pommel.

A second set of hoof-beats came up from behind him, and Vector turned to see Arjuna riding towards him on a chestnut mare, a grin on his face. "Ay! Morning, Prince Slowpoke! You up for a race?"

Vector frantically shook his head. "No, I'd really rather not…"

Arjuna simply laughed and kicked his heels against his horse's sides, breaking into a swift gallop. "Beat you to those cliffs over there!"

Vector huffed. "I told you, I'm not going to- aah!"

Mach must have sensed the challenge, because he suddenly whinnied and broke out into a full-on sprint, closing the distance between them and Arjuna in only a few seconds. Vector clutched the pommel for dear life, legs firmly clenched to Mach's sides. "S- Slow down!" he screamed, but Mach paid him no heed, eventually pulling out ahead of Arjuna and heading for the red sand-stone cliffs.

Arjuna whooped and kicked his horse again, speeding up until he was right on their tail. "Aw, come on, Vecta! Don't be a chicken!" He slowly but surely started to gain ground, eventually pulling forward until his chestnut and Mach were neck-and-neck. "Hope you enjoy the taste of my dust!" he taunted, pulling ahead._ "Kāttobing!"_

Mach snorted, and Vector adjusted his grip on the saddle, leaning forward slightly. A sly grin slowly spread across his face. "Alright, Mach, let's show him what you've got." He nudged Mach's sides with his heels, and the pegasus responded by speeding forward, pulling two full lengths in front of Arjuna and gaining distance rapidly. Vector grinned as he felt the wind whipping into his face and through his hair as they sped over the ground, flying forward at incredible speeds that set his heart racing. He let out a joyful yell, adrenaline coursing through his veins, and Mach echoed him with a whinny. They were almost nearing the cliffs, going so fast that Vector could barely feel the pounding of Mach's hooves anymore. As the wall of red stone drew ever closer, he decided to steal a quick glance over his shoulder and see how far behind Arjuna was.

What he saw instead was a pair of enormous white wings flapping furiously, and that Arjuna was really, really far away. Terrified, he turned back around and glanced down at the ground; they weren't very high in the air, maybe about a meter or so, but they were most definitely flying. He let out a yelp and gripped the pommel so hard his knuckles turned white. "Stop!" he screamed, eyes wide with fright. "Get back on the ground!"

Mach was apparently having too much fun to listen to him, as he only sped up and started gradually ascending. The cliffs were approaching far too rapidly, and it slowly dawned on Vector that if they continued at their present speed, they were going to crash right into the wall of rock. Not knowing what to do, he started frantically kicking Mach's sides, screaming. "Slow down!"

Just as it seemed that they were about to crash, Mach whinnied and pulled up into an almost vertical climb. Vector was so wildly terrified that he couldn't even scream or close his eyes as they flew up the side of the cliff, hurtling into the great expanse of sky at impossible speeds. After only a few short seconds, they cleared the top of the cliff, and Mach straightened out and slowly began circling downwards until he perched on the edge of the precipice with bird-like grace. Vector simply sat in the saddle, fingers still clamped around the pommel, frozen in pure shock and breathing heavily.

He had no idea how long he sat there like that, but eventually he started to hear Arjuna shouting at him from the bottom of the cliff. Shaking himself out of his stupor, he leaned forward slightly and stared down at the ground, so very, very far below. Arjuna looked smaller than a mouse from where he was.

Vector strained to hear what Arjuna was yelling at him, but it was no use; the lord's voice was too muffled by the incredible distance between them. Vector gradually dissolved into a strange fit of half-relieved, half-crazed laughter, unsure if he was even thinking straight. "I WON!" he shouted down to the ground below, not caring if Arjuna heard him. "I DEFINITELY WON!" He cackled at the sky, feeling like he was going to faint. "SOMEBODY GIVE ME A BLOODY MEDAL!"

How Vector got down from the cliff and back into camp afterwards, he didn't really know. Everything after that moment was a blur of white feathers, brown dust, and blue sky.

The next thing he remembered was Durbe apologizing profusely, Darius dabbing at his forehead with a cool, damp cloth, and Arjuna running around like a chicken with its head cut off, yelling about how insanely awesome that was.

After resting for an hour or two inside the carriage, Vector dragged himself up off the cot and went to find the groom who'd been taking care of Sassan. He spent the rest of the day on horseback behind the troops, taking in the scenery and conversing with Arjuna and a very subdued Durbe on the battle practicality of Mercia's newly-developed trebuchet.

In a way, Durbe's plan had worked extremely well. Vector now had no qualms whatsoever about riding a horse... as long as all four of its hooves remained on or near the ground.

* * *

The halls of the royal castle in Parsis echoed with cheery singing, a fact for which Lucias, the servant chosen to take care of the bedridden king, was none too happy. He leaned back in his chair, covering his ears with his palms. "God's teeth… it's times like these that make me wish I was a soldier. Dying on the battlefield sounds way better than dying from bleedin' out through your ears." As the bright female voice continued to sing, Lucias turned to face the comatose king where he lay and started to talk to him. Taking care of a man who was caught in an eternal sleep was, arguably, one of the dullest jobs on the planet, and he'd taken to doing this just to keep himself occupied. "Meanin' no disrespect, Majesty, but your wife is really an odd bird. Her singing's not so bad, but when you hear it day in and day out, it's enough to drive a man insane. Then again, I guess you knew that already…"

A serving girl poked her head into the room. "Oi! Lucias! The cook says the king's porridge is ready."

Lucias sighed and grudgingly got to his feet, heading for the door. "Thanks for tellin' me, Leah."

The girl smiled. "No problem." She stuffed her hands in her apron pockets and winked at him. "We still on for tonight?"

Lucias grinned devilishly as he headed down the hallway. "Of course, my saucy sweet." After blowing her a kiss, he turned his back and the two of them went their separate ways.

In the king's room, a dark shadow formed on the floor. It then grew and solidified gradually into the shape of a hooded man. Chuckling darkly to himself, the man glided across the floor and stood by the side of the king's bed. From within his robes, he withdrew a skeletal hand and extended it, laying his palm on the king's forehead. "Cyrus of Parsis," he intoned, eyes flashing red as crimson sparks appeared at the ends of his fingertips. "I place a portion of my malice within you."

The king slept on, but his expression contorted into a twisted grimace. The hooded man smiled approvingly. "As you sleep, the darkness within you shall fester and grow. In two years, you shall wake…" He drew his hand back into his robe and dissolved into shadow, chuckling to himself. "Then shall the Seal be broken."

* * *

**Author's Note: Behold! My feeble attempt to make this story consistent with canon! And it will succeed. Technically. But there will be substantial stretching involved…**

**The content of this chapter was not meant to take up one whole chapter. And yet it did somehow. *shrugs* Whatever. I guess one useless happy-chappy couldn't hurt. And Vector really did need to learn how to ride a horse, so this at least accomplished that much.**

**Oh, also, Vector's mom isn't really clinically insane; she's just a bit eccentric and emotional, which means that everyone else thinks she suffers from "hysteria." **

**Random servant romance is random.**


End file.
